Rock of the Ages
by Olivia94
Summary: "We're really good. Kind of Backstreet Boys meets Michael Crawford meets Jon Bon Jovi." Juliet sits in on band practice with Shawn and Gus. Pure fluff! Oneshot. Can be Shulsey if you want, but it doesn't have to be. :D


"Can you see her?" Gus's anxious voice carried to Shawn, clear as crystal, through his cell phone, the perfect reception serving only to reinforce Shawn's conclusion that the all-nighters his best friend had been pulling off were doing him no good. The guy sounded exhausted.

Shawn vaguely made a mental note to point out how ironic it was that Gus's sleep deprivation was a result of his steadfast campaign to sell some new, top of the line medication for insomnia.

"Not yet," the faux psychic replied, doing his best to hide his annoyance at answering that question for the fifteenth time in as many minutes.

Gus groaned impatiently. "I'm not sure about this, Shawn. What if she doesn't show up?"

Shawn rolled his eyes and leaned against the glass refrigerator door that was hidden in the back of the miniscule gas station he was standing in.

"Gus, don't be a bi-winning, tiger-blooded, extra terrestrial. Of course she'll be here."

"How can you be sure?"

"She comes here every Tuesday and Thursday sometime between 1:30 and 2:00. Please, Gus. Do you seriously think that you're the only one I follow to sharpen my intense recon skills? If that were the case I wouldn't be able to tail Helen Keller."

Shawn grinned to himself as he imagined what Gus's face would look like at his quip. He could practically _see _steam rising off of his wonderfully coco head.

"Don't give me that, Shawn! I'm a—"

"A Jackal, I know, buddy. A three-legged jackal that carries an anvil on his back, has his own personal mariachi band that follows him wherever he goes, and NEVER goes a _single_ mile over the speed limit, maybe."

"I have a perfect traffic record, Shawn!" Gus defended himself indignantly.

"Actually, as I recall, you have gotten one speeding ticket," Shawn said smugly.

"You getting pulled over and then passing off my license—that you stole along with the rest of my wallet, by the way—and registration off as your own doesn't count. I don't see what kind of idiot police officer would fall for that, anyway."

"I believe the term is 'borrowed', and she was color blind."

"That doesn't make sense, Shawn," Gus pointed out, not missing that the officer was a 'she'.

Shawn sighed incredulously. "It was just a minor miscommunication. Plus, my license was expired. What was I supposed to do, drive without one? Borrowing yours was the responsible thing to do. I can't believe you're still hung up on that whole thing, man. It was like, five years ago."

"Stealing my car and wallet, getting pulled over, and then flirting a police officer into believing that you're the next Michael Jackson does not qualify as a 'minor miscommunication', Shawn. And it was three weeks ago."

Shawn groaned into the phone loudly. "Just let it go, man!" He cried.

Whatever reply Gus intended to use was cut off by the soft ringing that indicated a customer entering the gas station. Shawn checked his watch. 1:47.

"Gotta go, she's here," He spoke into the phone before quickly disconnecting the call. "Gosh, he's got to grow up," He mumbled to himself as he turned to spot his target.

It barely took a full second for him to spot her. Eyes locked on target, the psychic detective took a deep breath; his timing had to be perfect—he had to strike after she'd cleared the front row of snacks, but before she reached the coffee. He quietly weaved through the isles, making sure to position himself in what he had calculated to be his ideal resting place. Once at his post, Shawn laid low and waited. He stood, eyes narrowed in concentration, until she was just barely passing his isle. Then he set off the ringer on his phone.

As expected, the woman shot a reflexive glance towards the source of the noise. It took a moment, but she did a double take and her eyes lit up in recognition.

"Shawn?"

Shawn tore his gaze away from the label he was reading to look at the woman. "Jules!" He cried happily. "Fancy meeting you here," Shawn grinned at the detective before him.

Juliet eyed him suspiciously. "I've never seen you here before."

"What, me? Oh, this is my first time here. I'm trying to branch out on the shopping institutions I visit. It seems to me like I'm completely throwing the economic stimulus out the window if I keep spending money at the same places."

Juliet nodded slowly. "I see. And what exactly are you shopping for?"

Shawn suppressed a grin. He'd hoped she'd ask that. "A tuner." He said simply.

"A tuner?"

"Yeah, you know, like for my guitar. Gus and I have band practice this afternoon and I can't find mine." Shawn explained, shrugging his shoulders in what he hoped to be a casual-cool fashion.

Juliet looked at Shawn and then the isle he was standing in. Conflict over what to address first flitted across her face for a split second. "You're standing in the dog food section."

Shawn took a moment to register his surroundings. So he was. "Well, yeah. I'm here for a tuner and dog treats. Gus loves to snack on them—why do you think he has such great complexion?" He stumbled through a half-hearted explanation.

Thoroughly entertained, Juliet raised an eyebrow but moved on. "I don't think they sell tuners here, anyway. And since when are you and Gus in a band?"

"Oh, since forever. We're really good. Kind of Backstreet Boys meets Michael Crawford meets Jon Bon Jovi."

Juliet couldn't stop the smile that was beginning to creep onto her face. "Really, now?"

"Oh, yeah. You know, you should come to rehearsal! We have one going on nowish," Shawn suggested nonchalantly.

Juliet laughed, "I'd love to, but I'm in the middle of a case."

Shawn sighed dramatically and threw is hands in the air. "Oh come on, Jules! Live a little! Will it kill you to take a break? Say le vwah!"

"C'est la vie?"

"I've heard it both ways…"

Juliet fought hard to suppress another laugh at the puppy-dog look forming on her friend's face.

"I'm sorry, Shawn, but the chief won't let me take a break. It's crunch time. The only reason I'm not at the station now is because I have to get Lassiter his fourth coffee."

Shawn thought for a moment. "Fine then. If you really want, you can claim that you're going to Psych for a consult."

The detective's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "In that case, won't you get paid?"

Shawn gasped and put a hand on his heart in mock offense. "Juliet! What a horrible accusation. Do you seriously think I would accept money for a case I didn't work?" Juliet raised both eyebrows and shot him a meaningful look. Shawn deflated. "Fair."

Juliet nodded once, satisfied. "I've got to go, though. If Lassiter doesn't get his caffeine fix soon, he might reach the brink and kill McNab," She turned to go. "See you later, Shawn."

"Wait, Jules," He shot out an arm and grabbed the detective's elbow, "Rain check? Tonight at around seven? Gus and I can push our jam session back for the sake of justice."

Juliet smiled as she pried her arm out of Shawn's grip. "Okay. I'll see you then." She turned and made her way to the coffee machine on the next isle.

A huge, childish grin broke onto the fake psychic's face as soon as she had turned away. "Mission accomplished."

OooOooO

"Are you sure about this, Shawn?" Gus questioned his best friend once again, watching him shift from stretching his arms to bending down and touching his toes.

"Gus," Shawn began, standing up straight to look his partner in the eye, "If you ask me that one more time, I'll take your drumsticks and stick them down your throat," He threatened before returning to his stretching.

"She's going to think we're idiots."

"Dude, don't be ridiculous. She'll think _you're _an idiot. She'll think I'm awesome. Plus, she already thinks you're an idiot."

"What? No she doesn't!" Gus said, offended.

"Does, too. She told me," Shawn informed him casually, picking up his guitar and slinging the strap over his shoulder.

"Did not!"

"Did too!

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!" 

"Did not!"

"Did too!" Gus cried.

"Okay, then. If you say so," Shawn shrugged and grinned broadly. He couldn't believe that actually worked.

"Hey!"

A knock on the door interrupted the two mid-banter. Shawn glanced down at his watch. "It's only 6:57! She's early. What do you think, should we leave her out there for three minutes? Tell her that rehearsal has to start exactly on schedule?"

Gus rolled his eyes and took his seat behind his drums. "Just get the door, Shawn."

Shawn nodded once. "Right," He said before making his way toward the front of the office.

When he reached the door, Shawn immediately threw it open, standing back so that his guitar was clearly visible. Shawn had wanted to go for the full-out rocker garb, but Gus had drawn a line.

Juliet, who was still in her signature work skirt suit, took a moment to register the man in front of her before she burst out laughing. "Why am I not surprised?" She wondered aloud, indicating the plastic controller around Shawn's shoulders.

Shawn ignored her completely. "Come on in, our jam-out is about to start."

When Juliet just stood, staring at him in disbelief, Shawn sighed and grabbed her hand. "Yeah, I know. I tend to have this effect on people. You never really get used to it," He told her, leading her to the couch that sat directly in front of the large television.

The detective shot a questioning glance at Gus once she took her seat. The man was in a chair behind a plastic drum set that matched Shawn's guitar. Gus just shook his head wearily in response.

"Okay," Shawn was saying as he scrolled through the Rock Band menu, "Are there any requests from the lady?" Without waiting for a response, Shawn continued, "No? Okay, then. We'll play this one," He decided and pushed down the green button on his guitar.

This action prompted a screen to pop up that asked the players to clarify their level. Gus tapped the green drumhead to select 'medium', while Shawn scrolled down confidently and selected 'expert'.

Juliet's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Expert? Wow, Shawn. I'm impressed."

"We'll, Jules, it's impressive," The fake psychic replied, keeping his eyes glued to the screen.

"I love this song!" Juliet said happily as 'Say it Ain't So' by Weezer began to play on the screen.

"I know," Shawn responded unnecessarily, causing Juliet to look at him wonderingly.

"You're clearly not much of a Jackal, Juliet," Gus pitched in, confusing the detective further.

Juliet would've questioned the man about the meaning of his statement, but the song was picking up, and she knew the point was moot. Her two friends were far too absorbed in their 'jam out' to answer her.

As the song went on, Juliet had to marvel at how completely idiotic the two managed to look. Gus's face was contorted in a way that made him look like he was in pain, and every now and then he would emit a high-pitched grunt or groan. Sweat started pouring freely down his face thirty seconds in. Shawn played with his whole body. Either his foot tapped, his shoulder jerked, or his head bobbed with every note.

At a point about halfway in, Gus's left hand slipped as he hit the drum too hard, and the drumstick flew out of his hand. His eyes widened in horror, "Get it, Juliet! Get it!" He cried, gripping his remaining drumstick with both hands and banging the notes out the best he could. Juliet jumped up and ran across the room to where the wooden stick had landed, grabbed it, and returned it to Gus; but, by the time he was able to recoup himself, his power had slipped below failing.

"No!" Gus yelled. "Save me, Shawn! Save me! Hurry!" His voice was near hysterical.

"Don't worry, buddy, I've got ya," Shawn soothed, jumping into the air as he dramatically thrust the neck of his guitar upwards to activate his star power.

Instantly Gus's game continued. "Yes!" He cheered triumphantly.

When the game ended, both men were awarded with a score in the low eighties. "Not bad, Shawn," Juliet nodded her approval as the two friends caught their breath. Shawn was bent at the waist, breathing heavily, and Gus had his hands resting on his head.

"Shawn? What about me! I scored three percent higher!" Gus asked angrily.

"Dude. I was on expert," Shawn pointed out, straightening himself.

"Why don't you guys play another one?" Juliet suggested in an attempt to avoid the immature banter she could tell was developing.

Shawn and Gus looked at each other hesitantly. "I don't know about that…" Gus mumbled.

"Yeah, he's right. It's getting late; you've got a big day at work tomorrow. Wouldn't want to keep you up," Shawn insisted, pulling Juliet off the couch and leading her towards the front of the building.

"It's barley 7:10, Shawn," Juliet informed him.

"You forgot about daylight savings time."

"Uh, no I didn't." Juliet stopped and turned around to face Shawn. "What are you doing? Why don't you want to play another song?" She demanded.

Juliet couldn't tell you what it was, but whether it was the look on Shawn's face, the guilty mask that Gus wore, the glance the two shared, or her woman's intuition, she knew the truth instantly.

"Oh my God," She said, a smile creeping onto her face, "You can't play any other song, can you? You practiced that one over and over until you both could pass it on those levels!"

Shawn looked lost for words for a second before he asked, "Did I ever tell you that Gus and I are _unbelievable_ skateboarders?"

**OooOooO**

**Hey there! So, I have no idea where that came from. Random oneshot that popped into my head one day. **

**I hope you liked it! I don't generally write stuff like this, so I'd really appreciate any feedback you can give me!**

**PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks so much for reading! :D**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **


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